


Transmutation

by PlotDotOh (TheCheerfulPornographer)



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: Coming of Age, Episode Tag, First Kiss, M/M, Making Out, Non-Explicit, Underage Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-10
Updated: 2013-09-10
Packaged: 2017-12-26 05:06:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/961907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheCheerfulPornographer/pseuds/PlotDotOh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is no such thing as permanence for Edward Elric.  There is only his brother, and their neverending quest.</p>
<p>This moment is like a snapshot of a different life, a reminder of everything that he is fighting to regain.  He knows full well that, after tomorrow, he might never see Russell Tringham again — but he will never be able to forget the boy who stole his name.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Transmutation

That evening, Ed wanders outside. He doesn't have any particular destination in mind, but a fifteen-year-old boy — even one who is a dog of the military — needs a moment to himself, from time to time. It's rare enough that Al is safe and warm and happy without him, so Ed decides to take advantage, and step outside to get some air.

In the garden, the night sky is bright and very clear. A nearly-full moon shines low on the horizon, with the bright Evening Star adorning the fat crescent's upper curve. Ed has no trouble picking out a path. He wanders through the simple vegetables and flowers, making for the small clearing that he saw, just up the hill among the pines. 

The air feels like a cool stream of pure water on his face. Peace is an emotion that Ed barely recognizes, but for a moment the moon fills his heart, and he is briefly, almost painfully content.

A few seconds later, the perfection is marred by the long shadow that fills the space where he intended to lie down. He just wanted to stargaze in peace, but even here, it seems that he can't really get away. He stops, hesitates, and nearly turns back down the path toward Belsio's brightly-lit house. He feels uncharacteristically reluctant to face the person who is lying there, taking up his space. 

He doesn't completely understand what it is that stops him, but there's something that a large part of him doesn't want to face. Something about this boy who stole his name, that makes him uneasy. Sets his teeth and hairs on edge. Something wire-thin and razor-sharp, crackling in the air between them.

But after all, he is Edward Elric — the Fullmetal Alchemist. And what would his fellows in the military think, if they knew that he was letting a mere boy get in his way? No. He has as much right to be here as Russell Tringham does.

He sets his face, saunters over to where the other boy is lying sprawled out with both hands behind his head, and plops down beside him. "What's up, impostor?" he challenges. "Pondering whose identity you're going to steal next?"

The clearing is big enough that both boys can lie down side-by-side without touching, but Russell is close enough to Ed that Ed can feel the other boy's body heat. It radiates against his own skin, making him feel strange. It's confusing. He can't decide if he wants to turn toward it or push away.

"Pondering how you manage to stuff so much attitude into such a tiny package, more like," the elder Tringham brother retorts. Ed grits his teeth and frowns, but astonishingly, this time he doesn't stomp and pout and yell. Something about this night – the weight of it, the vast depths of its silence – keeps him down. 

Maybe there is some peace left in his heart, after all. 

He rolls away from Russell, though, feeling the urge to conceal his face. His fist closes around a bunch of grass. He rips it out of the ground and tosses it high up into the sky, where the night wind carries it away. It disappears into the darkness. A part of Ed wishes that he could follow.

Before he can move, though, a hand falls onto his shoulder. It _almost_ makes him jump — but of course, the Fullmetal Alchemist wouldn't be startled. He turns his head, to see Russell watching him carefully. The other boy's face is hidden in the shadows, hard to read.

"Why does that bother you so much, anyways?" Russell asks. 

Ed frowns, and rips up another handful of grass. For a second, he considers throwing it into Russell's smug, annoying, handsome face. He really doesn't want to have this conversation. 

Not here. Not now. And especially not with _him_.

"No, but seriously," Russell insists, ignoring Ed's glower. "I don't understand why you're so sensitive about your height. I mean, it's not like it in any way harms your alchemy skills. I'll admit it, they're impressive. And you're even a really good fighter, as I found out." He chuckles ruefully. His compliments cause Ed's anger to drain away, as quickly as it came. "Being a little short doesn't really seem to affect your life. And you seem..." He trails off.

Ed realizes that he is holding his breath, and lets it out in a rush. He doesn't understand why he was doing that. 

"You seem like the kind of person who doesn't care too much about what other people think," Russell finishes. "You seem like you know what you're doing and where you're going, and you're not going to let anyone or anything get in the way. Except for when it comes to this one little thing." He shrugs. "I just don't get why your height, of all things, is such a touchy subject."

Ed looks at Russell. Russell looks back. The moonlight is playing tricks; it gives everything an uncanny glow. It seems to echo and refract inside the depths of Russell's eyes in a strange way. In a way that makes Ed want to keep looking.

Instead, he looks down at his hands. Studying his automail, he says, "Yeah, I dunno." For some reason — it's the moonlight, or maybe it's the silent, waiting stars — he feels compelled to a depth of honesty that he has rarely practiced. "I mean, all of that is true. It doesn't harm my fighting, or my alchemy, or anything like that. It's just..." He hesitates. Why is he even saying this? "It's just that, you know. I want people to find me attractive, like—" 

He stumbles to a halt, and blushes, hoping that Russell can't see it. He wants to crawl into a hole, someplace far away. He doesn't know why he ever started this conversation, why he ever walked over and lay down.

The ghost of an unsaid word hangs in the air between them. It should be obvious to anyone how Ed was going to end that sentence.

_I want people to find me attractive, like you._

Russell gives a little laugh. Ed has no idea what that meant. He wants to punch Russell. He wants to punch himself.

"I don't think that you should worry about that," Russell says, almost too quietly for Ed to hear.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ed demands. His voice sounds too loud, suddenly coarse and ugly to his own ears.

It's Russell's turn to look down at his hands. "I mean that there's a lot about you that's attractive, Edward Elric," he says softly. "Both physical and... otherwise."

It feels like somebody dumped cold water down Ed's spine. Or is it boiling hot water? He can't tell. He is freezing; he is burning up. His limbs are filled with static electricity. He doesn't know what to do with himself.

"Do you think so?" he says. His voice sounds thin and strangled, as if he was terrified. He wants to run away. He wants things that he doesn't even know the words for. 

He wants things that even alchemy could never make.

"I do think so," Russell says, and looks at him again. This time, Ed allows himself to stare back. 

How has he gone his whole life without knowing what that exact shade of blue would look like, under moonlight? How has he never considered the fact that blond hair could fall in exactly such a way, or charted the existence of that specific curve of cheek? It's amazing. Astonishing, really, the depths of his ignorance up 'til now.

Russell leans forward on one arm, reaches over, and lightly brushes the back of his hand against Ed's cheek. He lingers, moving slowly, but the intent is unmistakeable. The taller boy leans forward, his eyelashes falling shut, and then...

"I've never kissed anyone before," Ed blurts out. Russell, startled, quickly pulls away. 

Ed squeezes his eyes shut, certain that his blush is fierce and bright enough to light up the night sky. Why did he have to go and do that? As usual, he just _had_ to open his big mouth and make himself sound like some kind of _kid_ , in front of this obviously older, more experienced guy.

"Really?" Russell says. "Oh. I see. I'm sorry, I thought..."

It's intolerable. Ed can't wait around to hear how badly he just messed up. He has to do something. He's the Fullmetal Alchemist, dammit. He has to prove to Russell that he is not a _child_. 

Before Russell can finish his sentence, Ed pushes himself up, balancing on his automail arm, and presses his lips against Russell's in a defiant kiss.

As kisses go, it's nothing to write home about. It's too hard, too fast, too fierce. It's a battle-kiss, a kiss that knows it has something to prove. 

Still, Ed did it, and that's something. A bridge crossed. At least he'll never have to disclaim his innocence again. 

Russell pulls away after only a few seconds. Ed's heart is racing, for some reason, and his breath is quick and loud. He touches his bottom lip with one finger, and waits. He doesn't know what else to do.

He feels a little bit like he did at his State Alchemy exam: like he is waiting for a judgment. A handshake, a word, a nod. Some sign that, if granted, could change his whole entire life.

Russell's initial look of blank shock fades, and a small smile flutters across his lips. Before Ed can react, Russell reaches out his hand again, cradling the back of Ed's head and burying his fingers in Ed's long, blond hair. He tugs gently, lifting Ed's face up toward the light as he once again leans close.

This time, it quickly turns into a kiss worthy of the name. Lips part, tongues twist and tease, and suddenly Ed becomes enlightened. Suddenly he understands. 

It's not at all like fighting, really; it's a form of alchemy. There is a circle running between their bodies, created where they touch. It's an equal exchange — each one giving, and receiving in return. 

Alchemy is something that Ed can definitely do.

The circle strengthens and grows with every passing second, as they continue to kiss. He doesn't want to stop. He never wants to stop. He's wearing clothing, but he feels like he's as naked as the day that he stood before the gate and looked in, and saw the secrets of the world. The circle formed between them strengthens, energy crackling between their bodies as they tumble over and over one another on the grass. First Russell is on top, then Ed is. It doesn't matter. Neither of them wants to stop. 

The tension builds and builds, a slower working than Ed has ever known. Slower than he would have ever had the patience and the skill for, until very recently, but now he is ready for it. Now it is here, and it is glory, it is song, it is life and death and every moment in between. It is the very foundations of alchemy.

His body tenses. He knows what this is, but it's never been like this. He is transmuted.

A few seconds later, Russell is transmuted too.

\------

Afterward, lying peaceful and drained in the moonlight, they decide not to say anything to either of their brothers. Neither of them knows how to even start. Al and Fletcher will understand it when they're ready. When they're grown. 

And besides, they both knew full well that there's a good chance they might never meet again. There is no such thing as permanence, for Edward Elric. There is only his brother, and their neverending quest.

This evening is a snapshot of a completely different life — a life that contains a warm house, and safety, and kisses underneath the stars.

Ever since they left home, Ed has collected such reminders. He finds that when it all becomes too much, when even his legendary stubbornness fades, such memories give him a reason to go on. They remind him of what the stakes are, and what he's fighting to regain. So he lies next to Russell Tringham in the grass, separated but still loosely holding hands, and does his best to memorize every single line and curve of Russell's face.

He knows the memory of it might have to last him a long time.

\-------

When he sees the note in the basket, his heart leaps up inside his chest. He snatches it up quickly, before Al can get his hands on it, and unfolds it with great curiosity. What can Russell possibly have to say that he couldn't have said last night, when they were face to face?

Most of it is general sentiment: nice, and exactly as impersonal as he would expect in a note from somebody that he'd just met. Nothing at all shocking. He wonders if Russell wrote it before he went outside. 

That is, until he reaches the last two lines. The first one contains the revelation of Russell's age, but that's only the second-biggest bombshell. 

There is one line, the very last line of the note, that Ed doesn't read to Al, even when he asks him. It's a line that upends everything he thought he knew, his entire understanding of the previous night's events.

The last line of the note says, quite simply, "It was my first kiss too."

THE END


End file.
